i failed my exam
and cried all day

i don’t know who



     i called out her name

she took my hand
said we both felt the same

i love you with all i am

The cough in my throat turned into a sandpaper burning sensation,
and yet I sang so loud today that someone complimented me.
Nothing will keep me silent, but I know you want it.
Every cough is an abrupt clap of the vocal chords:
that's what a voice teacher once told me,
and I can feel how right they are every time I cough
and feel like my throat is burning and bleeding all at once.
I want to not do anything with my throat except sing,
not cough, not breathe, not swallow,
just sing, loud enough that you can't help but hear.

...and know that I am God."  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXXXIV)


Some dog barks from the clustered houses' sense
Of sheer commun'ty, distant as th'all hail
As twere of sparrows and the Cardnal.  Pale
Warmth is a tender kiss we feel from hence
While frore winds drive last Fall's leaves sans suspense
Across the naked blacktop.  Donne's poems they'll
Assure us are good reading lies t'avail
Next me upon the stoop, and whither thence?
Hark! as the dove's soft coo wafts 'non in tour
Likeas a note from yonder.  Say we knew,
Yet would not dare acknowledge aught that'd stir
Except by halves, blind, deaf, and sorry to
A fault cuz we'd not praise Thee, LORD, in tour
Was it?  Nor give Thee thanks.  How firs call too.

31Mar19b

Nervously hitting the switch - I can't be back here!
I know more than I did - but still
do not wave the past at me!

I am not this - I've never been
but I will -somehow- always be

I cannot think - I cannot be
(I used to write convoluted verse about it)
It's not a cliché - I mean it for real
In the amidst of horror there are no words
Horror - it swallows the whole

I shake, I ache
My whole life hangs by the wire of the light
And I am aware of what I do not like
It's you (no) it's me, it's everything

To let little things control me
To not be free anymore
I fight but I get tired

So weird writing this poem! So weird being here tonight!
But I will save myself from me - this time

In the springtime of that dark year of grief and loss,
The light of the Beloved glowed over the world’s soul,
Over the world’s soul,

The darker days of judgement will fade away,
Hate’s darkness will cease to be,
Will cease to be,

The songs of compassion will be heard again,
Our souls shall twinkle in the days of light,
In the days of light.

Her scent was subtle like the amber candle
I sometimes lighted up on solitary
She wasn’t that simple but secure,
well-rounded one could say

———

Where I was,
well I was a lopsided renegade
A somewhat lost cause —lost to myself that is and not to others
Those around me still had faith in me but I never quite got beyond the futility of it all
For even those who convert upon their deathbed have ‘faith’ for a second before they fall or perhaps fly into the anonymity of death
But isn’t this the most futile of epochs, one lingering whisper towards an anonymous deity and all is forgotten, I think not

I suppose then the reason I give those who seem to have faith in me such a hard time is because I sense them as seeking to affirm some element of themselves within my own absurdity
This in turn merely multiplies the absurdity of such a faith until we find ourselves sacrificing our nearest and dearest

I suppose then that it is most absurd of me to smile as she greets me in our first met
She moves closer, a big accordion smile juts out of my seams
Rather bashfully I tip my hat
A tune springs forth signaling my surrender
We converse, I laugh a lot
She never stops seeing my eyes, while I ******* my cigarette

I suppose then that her enchanting complexities security now becomes perforated by my own absurd faith

What a contradiction

She takes my hand. For now, I forget.

What happens
when your mind is goin
You hopin for his help
But...
You see the day
He cant figure somethin he
done ususal.
You know he aint gon' be there...

He pulled me closer.
The more closer I got,
The more my body got weaker.
The more he looked at me,
The more I got goosebumps.
Can anyone feel me?
Can anyone tell what's this?
The butterflies in my stomach keeps flying
And the thoughts in my head keep running.
' dreaming is better '
" Living in my dream "